Diamond of Ohio
by July 47th
Summary: I DID NOT,' I screamed, whirling around to face them, 'FALL ASLEEP WITH HAIRY...FRIGGIN...FEET! LOOK' I hopped to one foot and showed them all the horrid abominable monstrosity.' What might actually happen if a 21st century girl woke up as a hobbit...
1. Intro: A Battlfield Stroll

Intro.

"You know what I _really_ hated about my old home?" I asked my companion as we picked our way across the battlefield, through the puddles of mucky water and the piles of armor and flesh that were the bodies.

"What?" he asked me obediently. He tripped on the leg of a dead orc and I shivered, helping him to his feet.

"Nothing," I answered dourly.

It's true. Once upon a time, you know, I lived on a world called Earth. If you want to get specific, I hail from the land of Ohio, but honestly, nobody cares here. I, this very day, am in a not so much better place; another world, a really strange world, a world where there is no Ohio.

"Well. It sounds very nice," my battle-scarred companion told me, wiping a smear of blood from a cut on his forehead. "I should like to see it."

"You know you won't," I told him sadly. I leaned over and picked up a shiny piece of metal from the ground- wouldn't you know, a nice new dagger! "And I probably won't either."

A man came stumbling toward us, bloodsoaked and moaning. My friend grabbed me by the shoulders and steered me out of the way, and we both shuddered as the guy continued his blind stumble. Sometimes, both of us had learned, there are situations that you just can't better.

"Ah, well," he said quite pleasantly, taking the dagger from me without asking and examining it with interest, as we paused for a moment in our battlefield stroll. "It's probably the same with me. I wouldn't be altogether surprised if it was. So that makes two of us."

"Wow," I felt suddenly guilty for whining. Mr. Peregrin Took- that's my companion's name, by the way- has a way of presenting everything in a more or less optimistic light- you know "hey, by the way, we're probably all going to die! Pretty different, huh?". I, though, have never gotten that down. Maybe you have to be a real live natural hobbit to be that way.

I'm not a real live natural hobbit. I just happened to have been re-born one.

"So where are we going, anyway?" I asked him, removing the dagger from his hand and placing it fondly hanging from my belt. I'm getting good at spotting shiny things on dead people; it's actually quite creepy. "I mean, apart from all over this ugly old battlefield?"

"I don't know," he explained.

We wandered for a while longer, across the battlefield. The sun came briefly out, shining yellow through a crack in the thick smoky brownness that was the sky. From a bird's eye view I can only picture how we must have looked, two little figures cutting our way through piles of the dead and dying, through crumpled metal and mud, in a place that looked like the end of the world.

I had a feeling that this was the end- I don't know, something about the quiet and the dimness and that one ray of pleasant, weak sunlight gave a feeling of winding down to the whole place. We'd escaped death an unnatural amount of times over the past few months, but now it seemed, almost, as though we were going to go quietly after all.

It's funny, how far I was from Ohio or anything even remotely Ohio-esque. Ohio was only months away from me, but it felt seriously like decades. There were some things that I'd even forgotten; like the names of some of the people I went to school with. It's weird that in a manner of months I'd forgotten something that I'd kept in my mind for years and years,

You know- that's a journey of epic proportions for you.

And I guess you could say that I'd been on a journey of epic proportions. You know, literally, figuratively, emotionally and physically and mentally. Epic proportions everything.

It's kind of a long story.

A.N) Oh boy! The start of a brand new long story!

I should warn you that this is going to be kind of a Mary-Sue…you know, 21st century meets M.E, tenth walker, romance with cannon character…but if you're like me and you adore that sort of dumb thing anyway, absolutely keep reading.

And reviewing would be nice too...not that I'm subtly HINTING anything. XD


	2. Hallucinating

I had a lousy day.

First of all, I didn't feel well. You know- I didn't sleep well the night previous and as a result felt all tired and empty and headachy. My feet felt like they were barely touching ground and I didn't hear what everyone was saying to me. I remember people kept asking me if I was OK, and I kept not answering.

So I went through all my classes wearily; I locked my shoes in my gym locker and went halfway to my next class without realizing I was barefoot. I failed one test that might have been English and might not have. I stared at a math worksheet for ten minutes before spelling my name wrong and doing every problem incorrectly.

"Diamond?" my teacher said, looking over my shoulder at the paper- misspelled name and badly done problems.

"Yyyy-es?" I asked slowly, concentrating dizzily on the numbers on the paper.

"Are you alright?" she asked me. She was probably the seventeenth person that day who'd asked me the question. "Because you don't look well."

I tapped the paper lightly with one finger, trying to think of an answer, since I couldn't very well ignore the teacher. But my head felt stuffed. Way too stuffed to provide thought.

"No," I said finally, as the teacher stared (and a couple of classmates joined her- thank you, classmates).

The weird feeling had increased in weirdness all through the day. When I'd first gotten up that morning I hadn't been so badly off- just a touch of a headache over my left temple, and just a little more trouble than usual getting out of bed. I thought I was coming down with something, and had contemplated staying home that day.

But that was about it. So apparently, these are the first signs that you're about to cross over to another world. A headache and a little dizziness.

It gets nice and worse, though. Back to the math class:

Well," said the teacher, looking down at me, "do you want to go to the nurse?'

I hadn't looked up at her throughout the whole semi- exchange of words, but something made me decide to do so.

I lifted my head slowly, muzziness in my vision, and looked her in the face.

I screamed.

"Diamond? Diamond?" I could vaguely hear a voice, maybe hers and maybe someone else's, as I began to push back my chair and get up to run. I'd been spacing out, as I'd stared at the paper; I'd had this continuous stream of feverish images going on in my head of a couple of curly-haired people dressed all old-fashioned. You know, the sort of weird thing dreams show you; kind of pleasant.

Except, when you suddenly look up and see a real, solid person with the exact same face as one of your dream folk, it kind of spoils the pleasantess.

My teacher was an old, ugly lady- big and fat and monstrous. She had tremendous glasses and dyed hair and a tendency to wear see-through tops- oh my god, so nasty- but anyway, suddenly she wasn't beastly. She wasn't old.

Her face was of a middle-aged woman with curly brown hair, pointy features, and gray eyes. She was wearing a checked red dress- I mean, a good old-fashioned, rustic, lace-up bodice dress. I'd seen that dress not ten seconds ago in a woman in my daydream.

And now I, who in the past hour had been getting dizzier and dizzier, stumbled out of my seat and away. I had vague notions of getting out the classroom door, and was vaguely hearing exclamations from the kids in the room. I can't tell you how horrible it was to see what I had seen. I mean, it doesn't sound scary, admittedly; looking up and seeing a half-rotten demon face would be scary, so an ordinary human one would be not nearly so horrid.

But- I've never exactly been the type to hallucinate before. I've been sane- well, some of my friends call me weird but that's a big joke- I've been healthy, I've never been on shrooms and never played let's-inhale-the-chemicals-under-the-kitchen-sink. Think about this- really, think about it- this minute, if someone familiar- maybe your mother, or your boyfriend, or your sister or just anyone- were to approach you, to say something, and if you were to glance quickly up at them, recognizing their voice, but then see that their face was the face of another person…don't tell me you wouldn't lose it like I did.

I ran. Getting up had made the blood rush from my head, and my vision was brown with dizziness, so I didn't see where I was running to, but I could feel my feet moving.

"Diamond-" called a voice after me. My teacher?

I kept running. My heart was racketing. I had a brief memory of this morning. Goddamn, I thought, why the hell didn't I stay home?

I guess running with your vision all blurred isn't the most brilliant action to take when you're having a semi-fit, because as soon as I thought this, I heard a smash and realized that I had crashed into something. The lockers.

My vision began to clear. I was in the empty hallway, feeling a little nauseous.

I sank briefly to the floor to rest.

I glanced to either end of the hall. My math classroom was at the end farthest from where I was now. Realization dawned on me- had I really just _done _that?

I rubbed my eyes to clear up my vision a little more, and stared at the lockers across from me in horror. I had! I had just had a monstrous, enormous freakout. In front of twenty-two other people.

"Goodness," I muttered, squeezing one eye tight shut and shaking my head furiously. What the hell had happened there?

_You need a doctor, you freak of nature_, my conscience informed me. My conscious is always telling me crap like that. Actually, it's usually useful crap, but I usually ignore it. Now, however, it sounded like high-quality advice. I got up slowly, pushing on rattly metal of the lockers to propel myself. Steady, girl. I would walk to the nurse's office, slowly, and I would demand to go home or, even better, get to a hospital immediately.

I started up, my legs shaky as I walked down the hall.

I gave a weary sigh. Math class after today would, without doubt, be extremely-

I stopped dead. Oh, hell no. Not again.

The hallway was changing. It wasn't filling up with people, it was actually changing. The gray-speckled-blue of the walls seemed to sort of…melt. The wall, and the corner, and the stairs, they were all just…melting. That's the best way I can think of to describe it. They were sort of shimmering, and then it was like they were made of dust, and then slowly and steadily, they were turning into something else altogether, and I could only stand there and watch them do so.

I saw myself surrounded by green. I was in the middle of the outdoors; not only the outdoors, but a beautiful landscape in the middle of summer. It was January.

I knew there was no logic to this whatever, but I felt dazed, and took a step forward. There was grass under my feet. I could hear it rustle, very, very softly.

This place was warm. I looked around, almost enjoying the sun on my shoulders despite the fact that it should NOT be there. There was sky above me- gorgeous, sunny sky! And birds were chirping, and around me, trees grew and flowers were scattered all over the little hills.

It was like heaven. It was perfect. It was also way too trippy to be real.

Especially since there were doors in all the hills.

I think I forgot to mention that.

Every single hill, I noted with calm, stupefied acceptance, had a round, brightly painted door built into it. Like the door to a house. And there were also steps leading up to the doors, and fences around the hills, and cute little gardens and windows. Round windows.

I wondered briefly if this was what getting stoned felt like after all.

If it was, I'd have to consider getting ahold of some mind-altering drugs, because this wasn't half bad. It was like a really nice dream.

Forgetting everything, I kept going down the lane that I was now standing on. I didn't think about it, I just did. Just walked, liking the daylight and green grass and loving the feeling of peace. I didn't usually feel peaceful. I get nervous, I can't help it.

"Diamond!" called a voice behind me. I turned mechanically, unsurprised, as in a dream.

The same woman I'd hallucinated not five minutes ago was there behind me on the road. I regarded her with stupefied acceptance.

"Mother…?" my voice flowed out of my throat without my meaning it to. It was a strange voice, a little garbled. Like I really _was_ stoned, or maybe severely retarded; anyway, I suddenly realized that I didn't like this much after all.

"Diamond, dear," said the woman behind me, putting her hands on her checkered frock clad hips. Her voice was low and sensible, the quintessential mommy voice. "Where are you going without anyone to help you? You know you still can't walk far, my love. Come back indoors."

"Don't…want…to…" my voice said faintly. Trapped in my own head, I felt mildly panicky. This was getting far too weird. Why was I speaking like this? Why couldn't I talk normally? "Mother…the rider…"

"Come on, dear," my not-mother came up to be and took me gently by the shoulder, steering me back down the road to one of the larger little hills. "It's almost time for tea-time, anyway. You must eat more, you've gotten far too thin…"

And as soon as that was said, the green all faded away.

I was standing in the hallway, just like that, and I looked once around the empty corridor before bursting into frightened tears and running for the stairs.

I guess my teacher called the nurse and told her that I was coming, because I was expected. I sat numbly on the edge of the paper-sheeted little bed as my mother drove out to the school, beyond terror that the hallucinations would come back. I couldn't think about it, because the thought that I might slip out of reality, without warning, at any moment, scared the shit out of me. And there was always that chance that the next time, I wouldn't come back.

"I…felt dizzy," I explained to my mother as she and the nurse stood in the doorway of the office, watching me with matching expressions of concern. I felt like crying again out of frustration, because I was too stuffed-up and spaced-out to find the right words. "Really dizzy. And my head hurt a lot."

"And you told me that you thought you were seeing things?" asked the nurse in her little, gentle voice.

I hadn't wanted to mention the hallucinations, afraid that would make them start happening again. I nodded, though.

My mom and the nurse exchanged looks.

I was taken to the hospital, not speaking the whole way and clinging fearfully to the seat of the car like it was a horse that would throw me. Every second I felt on the edge of slipping into my dream realm again, and struggled like crazy to stay in the present and in reality. Like fighting to stay awake when your eyelids are too heavy to keep open.

My mom opened the car door for me and I slipped a foot out cautiously, and then lost balance and fell out of the car to the mucky slush-covered ground. I heard my head whack the concrete, had one quick, flashing image of huge, slimy horse's hooves crashing down on the ground while a thin black something like garments flapped about somewhere nearby, and then I blacked out altogether.

I didn't wake up in the hospital, that's for sure.

A.N) DUN DUN DUN! Wherever could she be???

As always, reviews make me happy…I will try to R&R something of yours in return, so let me know what you thought of this here! 


	3. I Have Monster Feet

Disclaimer: I seem to have neglected to mention…this world, plot, and these characters all belong to one professor J.R.R Tolkien, not, coincidentally, me.

(-------------------------)

Black hooves clattered down the road toward me, and I ran through the cold night wildlly. My skirts flew out around me, flapping in the night air, and my hair whipped in my face, sticking to my mouth. I could hear them- catching up. There was a gap still between the riders and me, and it was closing. Their hooves would hit my flesh and bones.

My throat seared, and my chest ached. I've always been out of shape; I guess my dream form's no different. I could not run so far. I knew that I'd trip not far down the road, and then they'd have me.

I turned around, just briefly, hearing my own terrified breath rattle in my ears.

I saw the riders- two riders, tall, rangy, black horses armored with silver. Horses with no eyes. Their riders were spectres; they cried sharp, wailing supernatural cries after me.

They were after me, and I didn't know if I'd ever find out why.

(------------------------)

I woke up, for real, high in a tree.

"Oh…oh shit…" I whispered in utter horror, swaying slightly and grabbing the branch nearest me to prevent myself falling.

I couldn't remember anything, except for that rider I'd seen in my dream. I trembled, clinging to the tree- a thin, scraggly, ominously wobbly little thing I'd wound up in- and surveyed the land around me.

I really was high up. That tree, skinny as it was, was unnaturally tall. Actually, all the trees around me seemed unnaturally tall. I whimpered, feeling my body stiffen in utter, 100 horror as the distance between me and the ground began to register.

Did I ever mention that I have a huge, massive phobia of heights?

"Help…" I moaned into the darkness. My eyes were squeezed so tightly shut it hurt, but even then I could practically feel myself slipping off of the branch, even though I wasn't moving. If I made even the slightest movement, the delicate, slippery little branch would give way and I'd fall through the feet and feet and feet of emptiness to the hard ground-

Nausea worked it's way through my stomach.

I think it's safe to say that I had completely, utterly forgotten about the black riders and the fact that I was in a strange place. I was now concentrating on one simple thing; not moving. Not a fraction.

It looked like I was going to be staying in that tree forever, locked in a struggle against every single part of my body when I heard movement far below me.

In an instant, I had a huge "uh-oh" moment, screamed wildly, felt the skinny branch slip bizarrely from beneath me, and fell.

I plummeted, screaming, my stomach feeling like it was going to revolt and crawl out of my throat. I thrashed in midair; and could only vaguely hear shouts of other people nearby.

I hit something. Something too soft for ground.

Whimpering, I clung to that something.

"I caught her!" I heard a voice shout; a young man's voice which, I'm telling you, sounded really freaking bizarre. He had some kind of accent. "Frodo! Sam! Look! A girl just fell into my arms!"

"Uuuuuuuggghhh…" I wailed, digging my nails into the guy who'd caught me. I can barely remember shaking so hard in my whole life. I thought, in those first moments after landing, that I was still at a huge distance from the ground, and that if I let go I'd fall.

"Where did she come from, then?" a different voice, this one definitely bearing the trace of a British accent. "I must say it's very un-hobbitlike to be falling out of trees…Mister Frodo, what do you say?"

"She seems to have come from up there- you see, right above us," said a third voice, this one sounding a bit older than the other two. I didn't care. My stomach was continuing its crawl up my throat. "I expect she-"

"I think I'm gonna be sick," I moaned, gulping. The guy holding me heard.

"Aaaaagh!" he yelled, dropping me in terror.

Whumph. I hit hard ground, and clung to it, feeling it seeming to tilt and spin.

"Pippin!" shouted the older man's voice. "What on earth did you do that for?"

"She said she was going to be sick!" replied Pippin (seriously…what mother names her child that? Way to call your son after an apple, lady). "I didn't especially want her to be sick on me." His voice came from directly above me, sounding strangely muffled by the ground at my ear. I wondered if that was a Scottish accent he had. It sounded suspiciously like it.

"Yes, but even so you can't just drop her like that…"

I could feel someone kneeling beside me, and rolled onto my back. I shivered, realizing suddenly how chilly the thin night air felt out here.

"Miss?" came the second voice, from somewhere nearby. "Are you awake?"

I opened my eyes, suddenly not feeling capable of speaking a response.

A face was looming above mine; eerie against the black, star-prickled sky. It was a man's face, a man of about thirty, I guessed, sort of chubby with curly, light-brown hair and an expression of concern.

"She's awake," called the man, turning to the other two. The face disappeared from my view and I saw only the sky. It was a clear night- pitch dark, except for the twinkling of cold white stars. No moon out.

In an instant, there were three faces looming above me. This was way too weird for me, and I screamed yet again, sitting up like a movie character waking from a nightmare.

I sat still, breathing hard, and turned to face the men around me.

"Are you alright, lady?" asked the one closest me, the one who'd sounded old. He wasn't old, coincidentally; he was actually quite young, with dark, curly hair and a very old-fashioned outfit; white shirt and dark waistcoat and jacket. He was holding a walking stick and seemed to be wearing a backpack.

"F-f…fine," I managed softly, brushing some hair out of my face and beginning to feel lost, beginning to think again. Where the unholy hell was I? I remembered school; my math classroom. This did not connect. Something huge and scary, I knew, had happened between then and now. But I couldn't remember at all what it might have been.

"That was quite a fall you took," the man continued, smiling slightly. "Though fortunately you had Pippin here to catch you/" He turned to glance at the third guy, who hadn't spoken so far. He was young, too, and also dressed a little strangely; dress shirt and jacket, wearing a backpack and a scarf around his neck. He was curly-haired- I realized these three must be related- and he had a thin, angular face and very pointy nose.

"I'm sorry about dropping you," he said, grinning at me. The kind of charming grin that lets you get away with anything, only it didn't make me feel better.

"That's OK," I mumbled, still feeling overwhelmed.

"Miss?" said the dark-haired guy, touching my shoulder lightly and peering into my face. "Are you going to be all right?"

"Where am I?" I asked him, shivering and wanting to cry and run home.

"You don't know?" he asked, brow wrinkling lightly.

"No…" my voice was getting, if anything, quieter. Forget it- I was going to start crying. My face crumpled.

As it did, I felt something light and warm falling over my shoulders, and I jumped. I turned around, tears blurring my vision, and saw the first guy- the one who'd first spoken to me- draping what seemed to be a wool blanket over me.

"You looked cold," he said kindly. "No cloak or jacket or anything, and it's a chilly night."

I frowned at him, momentarily distracted. ("Cloak"?)

"No," I agreed slowly. "And thank you. But where am I? I don't remember anything. I just woke up in this tree and all of a sudden here I was. I wasn't even outside last I remember."

The three exchanged looks. It made me extremely nervous; as if they had something horrible that they were afraid to tell me.

"The Woody End," said the dark-haired guy. "Not far from Hobbiton. I'm…Frodo Baggins, if that helps at all." He seemed extremely reluctant to give me his name for some reason, but I couldn't have cared less. This guy had just been spouting out a bunch of complete gibberish, and I was most certainly not comforted. I knew of no Hobbiton near where I lived; no Woody End, either. Furthermore, "Frodo" and "Pippin" were two of the absolute stupidest names I'd ever heard in my entire life.

"Am I dreaming?" I asked aloud, already fairly sure what the answer would be. I bit the inside of my cheek and felt it perfectly.

"No," Frodo answered, politely puzzled. "I'm afraid you aren't. Well- why don't you tell us your name, and where you last remember yourself?" The three watched me then, not unpleasant, but all equally curious. Maybe, I thought, I'd landed somewhere in the country, somehow, and a group of hikers- British hikers, obviously, what with the accents- had found me. It made sense.

"Well," I wrapped the blanket neatly around me, and composed myself a little. "I'm from Long Cleeve. You know where that is?"

The three seemed clearly to recognize the name.

"Yes," said Frodo, reassured. "Up north, isn't it?"

"North?" I had always thought it was in southwest Ohio, but then I'd gotten stuff like that wrong before. "I think so. Anyway- my name's Diamond. But I don't think that'll help much. I don't think."

"Diamond of Long Cleeve!" Pippin exclaimed suddenly, looking at me with shock. "I've heard your name before."

My insides squirmed and my fingertips tingled in horror. This was getting too bizarre. Diamond of Long Cleeve? My name was Diamond, yes, I was from a town called Long Cleeve, yes, but "Diamond of Long Cleeve" sounded like the name of a medieval lady, which I most certainly was not. And this guy had heard of me. This guy with weird clothes and a Scottish accent had heard of me, and _I wasn't dreaming_. I was not reassured. Actually, I felt marginally insane.

"How," I asked slowly, swallowing hard, "have you heard of me?"

I couldn't look him in the eyes, because he was making me nervous, and so coincidentally as I spoke I stared down at my legs. It took a few seconds, but suddenly it registered with me;

I had the biggest, hugest, ugliest hairy feet I had ever seen in my entire life.

Last I knew, I had hairless, delicate, cute little size six feet. I stared at them now, or where they'd used to be, and in increasing horror saw that it was not merely a trick of the light.

I HAD MONSTER FEET.

"Holy shit!" I screamed at the top of my lungs, leaping to an upright position. "My feet! What the hell did you do to my feet? WHO THE GODDAMN HELL ARE YOU?" I grabbed at my right foot furiously, tugging like mad at the disgusting foot hair. "UGH!" It wasn't coming off. These were not shoes or slippers or weird prosthetic feet, even, these were real flesh and real…fur. Fur.

"Miss? Miss?" came someone's voice from nearby. I wasn't sure whose, I waas busy hopping around like mad on my huge, floppy, hideous new feet to care. I bit my lip again and again, hard, and each time I felt it. This was not a dream, this was a living nightmare! This was a horror movie in action!

"I DID NOT," I screamed, whirling around to face them, "FALL ASLEEP WITH HAIRY- FRIGGIN- FEET! LOOK!" I hopped to one foot and showed them all the horrid abominable monstrosity.

They watched me, still looking politely puzzled. Pippin, that mentally deficient name-challenged Scottish psychopath, looked like he was about to crack up and start laughing.

"Diamond," said Frodo calmly. "We are all hobbits here. Look-" he pointed downward.

I paused in my hysterics and looked down. I saw three pairs of identical, massive, hairy feet, and that was it.

My eyes rolled up into my head and I fainted.

Wouldn't you?

A.N) ...I certainly would... Anyway. In other news, folks, this is going to be bookverse, which means if you haven't read the books, which is just ridiculous, you won't get some parts (like, oh, say, Glorfindel rescuing Frodo instead of ARWEN). That said I am still keeping Scottishaccent!Pippin, because...um...I couldn't resist. Besides, it never specifically states in LotR that he DOESN'T have a Scottish accent... Maybe I need to re-read here... 


	4. Kind of a Mess

And so I opened my eyes once more.

"She's awake!" announced a voice nearby.

I shut my eyes again quickly. Oh, hell, no.

I had been thinking bed, and home, and my mom waking me up, but was put off beyond belief to discover that my reality was more like lumpy ground, and outside in the night, and the Insane British Three. That sour, sorry reality hit me as soon as I heard the voice and felt the chill of the air.

"OK," I sat up slowly, my voice quavering. I kept my eyes half-shut, not wanting to look at them again. "Umm…no need to…panic. I'm fine."

I was only half thinking about what I was saying, and with my half-logic figured that since I'd had a minor breakdown not a few minutes ago, I should probably reassure them that I wasn't going to commence with the hysterics any time soon. The worst, I hoped, was over by now. And there was nothing I could do about anything.

There was a shifting sound of someone moving toward me. In a moment, there was that dark-haired, stupidly-named man, Frodo. Heehee. Frodo. I wondered briefly whether his parents really had been druggies. Or celebrities, because celebrities always give their kids dumb names. I settled with the former; this didn't seem an exceptionally star-studded place.

"Miss…Diamond," he said, very sincere "Tell me- do you remember anything at all? I don't mean from before you fainted I mean- anything?"

He leaned forward, his eyes level with mine- think, he was almost certainly silently commanding me.

I thought. The other two, I sensed, were watching us closely. Probably, they were waiting with morbid curiousity for me to fly off the handle again. I felt nervous and, marginally, embarrassed at the stares. I couldn't think- it was like being interrogated. How could I think like that?

"I don't-" I swallowed hard as he continued to watch me; then, as soon as I spoke, I remembered something. "Oh, my god." I looked around, suddenly, as though a black rider were clattering right behind me. "The rider. Listen. You're going to think I'm insane, but have there been any…any…"

"Any what?" prompted Frodo, frowning. I could hear sudden bated breath all around me- it was a little definitely odd.

"I remember-" I said, swallowing again, and catching two pairs of eyes glinting at me. "Before I woke up, I had all kinds of dreams. Black riders on black horses with silver armor- what?"

Frodo's eyes- blue eyes- widened like crazy as soon as I said that, and I could hear a quickening of breath from all three. It was as if I'd said a cursed name. They were all suddenly apprehensive.

"You," his voice was shuddery with disbelief, and his face was full of shock. "You have seen the riders?"

"Oh…yes," I told him, nodding. A funny feeling had begun creeping up my throat, a trembling feeling, not fear, more…strangeness. What _was _this? "I…have no idea what they are. Do you?"

"Yes," he said grimly, sitting back, and looking defeated. "I do."

"They're after you, those things, those…" I blurted out, feeling my eyes widen and my whole body shudder.

My eyes were full of tears. What was happening to me? _I wanted to go home_. I wanted to go home so bad. I hated this place already.

"How," whispered Frodo, leaning toward me and staring at me, into me, direct and clear, "did you know that?"

"Wait," I whispered. I crawled toward him; suddenly, it was imperative that I tell him the word that had come to me. I leaned forward and whispered into his ear. _"Nazgul."_

_What an ugly word_. I stopped, and drew back, horrified at what I'd said.

"I'm sorry," I murmured. "I don't know what happened."

It was so true. I silently begged that he'd believe me.

"Yes," he said. He really did look stunned. "Yes. I think that you are speaking honestly, but how…" he shook his head in disbelief, breathing hard. "I'm amazed."

I couldn't think of anything to say. I rubbed my eyes. My shoulders trembled and despite the blanket, I could feel the night air's chill plainly. I knew something now, something that I'd worked out on my own: something supernatural had happened to me. I was far too dazed to completely understand the scope of this, it was like staring at words on a page over and over and over in an attempt to fully realize their meaning. I could not yet get up close to it, but I was able to almost objectively realize that I was now on a world that was not earth.

That, or I was insane; but when you're insane, don't you only see things and hear things? You don't feel like I felt, or smell, or taste. I could feel the subtle body heat of the three people around me, and I could smell things- the wool of the blanket around me, and the three men, a little sweaty from walking a lot.

"I'm really sorry," I said, because I knew that I'd just done something absolutely terrfying and absolutely unnatural. These seemed like seriously old-fashioned people, and old-fashioned people don't like that sort of thing. And everyone seemed so grim and quiet.

"No," Frodo murmured, exhaling shakily. "Don't…don't apologize. Do you have any idea why you might know these things? Did you see the riders?"

He wasn't looking at me.

"Yes," I said, nodding. I gathered the blanket tighter around me; I was still freezing. "I saw them a few times. Just before you came. I was running from them, and then I…" I realized then what I must have been doing so high up in a tree "…I climbed a tree because it was the only way to escape them. But I saw them before, and I think they did something to me. I think they made me lose my memory."

There we go. If I had to do this, I was going to play the "amnesiac" card. Telling them about earth was not, I knew, going to hack it with these guys.

But oh, my god, I wanted to. I can't explain how much I wanted to just panic and start waving my arms and screaming that I thought I was losing it. That I last I remembered I'd been in a place where the people had normal-sized feet and where there are no spectral black _freaky as hell_ riders chasing me around. But I decided right away that I couldn't let myself say that, and I was miserable.

I struggled not to cry again. Why was I this alone? I'm not even kidding; I wanted my mom. Or my dad, or my grandmother, or my Uncle Martin, or my friend Christina or even Trevor the Demon Child who I'd had to baby-sit last week. _Anyone_ from home. I was desperate for comfort but no one here would comfort me.

Frodo seemed to have decided something. "All right," he said, conclusively. He started to get up. "Diamond, come with me."

I felt mildly alarmed, as I still didn't quite know the guy. Nonetheless, I followed him. I didn't have a choice- dead alone in this world, I had to do as I was told now.

We walked a ways away from the others, and paused in a shadowy clearing. I could hear the other voices talking (probably about me) as Frodo began to speak to me.

"I didn't wish to speak of this in front of Sam and Pippin," he said, in a low voice, "but you seem to have understood something that concerns me. I think, Diamond, that you must have this knowledge for a reason, but I couldn't say why, of course. I will say this, though- I am traveling out of the Shire."

I stared, feeling mildly hysterical at all the confusing words.

Silly Diamond! He's traveling out of the Shire! _I totally know what the hell a Shire is_! I'm also Spiderman!

I continued to watch Frodo closely, cold and quivery.

"Sam knows, but Pippin doesn't- he thinks I'm merely moving to a new home. But I mean to leave this country-"

The Shire is a country. OK. I took a deep breath; if I could figure that out, maybe I could do this on my own.

"-The riders are after me, and I am going to a place called Rivendell, where they may be able to help," Frodo eyed me closely, probably assuming that I knew what Rivendell was and just wasn't saying so. "I meant only to take Sam with me, but I think…now…that it might be wise if you were to come as well. The people of Rivendell may be able to determine what happened to you."

This was what I had wanted to hear. Just one word: help. You wouldn't believe how much I needed it. As it I was as helpless as a newborn abandoned in the middle of a forest on approximately the fifth of February; I was at these guys' mercy, and fortunately, they seemed pretty merciful.

Just a few problems, which I shall now detail to you:

I still didn't totally know where the Shire was. I didn't know where Rivendale was either. It could have been a mile or five _freaking_ thousand, and I was just starting to get my head around the fact that this wasn't earth. As a result, I was now experiencing the sensation known as "being hopelessly lost".

The black riders were indeed after Frodo; and they were also more than likely after me as well. I had no clear idea as to who the riders were and specifically what sort of danger they posed. I just knew that they were dangerous. And scary.

I still had monstrous hairy feet. Me! I was practically not human.

_I was fucking hungry._

And then there were about forty-seven other issues; but the first five were the most important. I regarded Frodo hopelessly, biting my lip, and hoped vaguely that he would be able to solve all of these for me. He seemed pretty capable.

"Well?" he said, patient but deeply serious. "What do you say?"

"I, ummm…" did I have a choice? No, I did not. "Yeah, sure." Frodo looked extremely confused, and I realized at that moment that he didn't have a clue what the words "yeah, sure" meant. "Yes," I corrected myself. "I'll go with you. Where is it?"

"Many miles from here," he said with a tired sigh. "Through the wild. I'm afraid it'll be difficult, but we have no choice. But first, we're going to Bree. Do you know where that is?"

No, I didn't. I floundered, wondering whether to lie and say yes and at least try to keep up the appearance of having some clue who, what, when and where I was.

He seemed to sense my confusion. "It's near the border of the Shire, not far. There we're going to meet a friend of mine. He's very capable of helping us."

A friend of his. All right. Sounded like a good deal, except for where it vaguely frightened me. I don't know why, but when he said "a friend of mine" I immediately thought of someone huge and scary. Like a bodyguard. But really, I was terrified of everything at the moment. There was something very subtly off about absolutely everything around me. It was like a wrong note being played; it only has to be a little off-key to sound creepy as hell.

Maybe it was the lighting of the place; maybe the shadows were just slightly in the wrong places, or maybe the air smelled different than it had at home. I felt weak and shaky and I knew absolutely that this was all just dripping with real supernatural.

This was what the supernatural felt like, apparently.

Frodo turned around and began to walk back out of the clearing. I followed. As I paused briefly to swat at a bug that bit at my leg, I noticed something that made my heart jump.

I was wearing a dress. Not just any dress; the mother of all rustic-looking old-fashioned lace trimmed frocks. Dark red wool and rough white lace flashed before my eyes as I glanced downward. I squeezed my face tight shut but did not scream. I would have to live this out. Maybe, anyway, I was going to go back home as soon as I went to sleep again.

Then, I knew with increasing hope, I'd be safe, and I'd have a story to tell and everything. Well, maybe no one would believe it, but it would be a story for me to relive to myself.

Pippin and Sam- I was pretty sure the other guy's name was Sam, the only truly normal name of the three (I think I liked him best; he seemed generally to be the least freaky)- were not exactly waiting for us, but were sitting down, having a conversation I couldn't hear and, most importantly, eating.

I was still fucking hungry.

"Hello," said Sam, looking up at us. "We were just having a bit of late-night second supper; would the lady like some as well?"

Ooh, this was new. I had never been referred to in third person as "the lady" before. I was a little wary of answering, but since they seemed to expect me to do so, gave a quiet "yes". _Because these people don't know what "yeah" means. _Good lord.

I sat down awkwardly, between Frodo and Pippin, feeling as though I was missing something essential. I took a tin plate and hoped that the others would forget I was there; people who know each other as well as these three did make me shy.

Except then Pippin turned and smiled at me pleasantly. Definitely at me. I smiled tightly and nervously back at him.

"You know," he said, conversationally, as he stocked his plate with a truly exceptional amount of food- I mean, really exceptional, considering he was pretty much average weight. I stared in amazement. (He wasn't going to be able to eat all that.) "I have heard that if you hit your head hard enough, it can make you forget everything, even your own name. Is that what happened to you?"

I realized that I had been staring at the food on his plate with wide eyes, and cut it out immediately. I really have to learn not to stare like I do.

"Um. No," I said, shaking my head. "I mean- well, I don't know. Honestly. I don't know anything. Just my name."

I congratulated myself sarcastically. The dumbness that sometimes issues forth from my own mouth is stunning.

"Here," he said, leaning over, taking some of the food that had been laid out and placing it on my plate. He grinned at me and his eye kind of glinted. I'm not saying it was creepy, it just was. I suddenly realized that he must think I was a little feeble-minded.

Oh, shit. I should probably clear that up.

"Thank you, sir," I said politely. "I am indeed very hungry. And as to my origins, I daresay hope to learn more- determine more- um, find out what they are. Frodo has promised to help me."

Oh! I daresay, old boy, let us retire to my flat and consume some crisps! Cheerio! I say, I am very much authentically British and old-fashioned!

Good lord. Maybe I shouldn't speak at all.

Pippin actually stopped smiling briefly and a look came over his face for which, I regret to say, the best description could only be "WTF?" He resumed eating. I started, mournfully.

It was then that I discovered; I was more than hungry. I was _ravenous. _I cannot describe to you exactly the scope of my hunger at the moment, but it honestly felt as though my insides were one big bottomless pit. I know it's rude to eat overmuch of someone else's food, but I did so, and barely regretted it.

Why in the name of all that is righteous I was so hungry, I did not know. But I do know that everyone else, including Mr. Sincerity, Frodo, ate just as much as I did. It was the final bizarre touch to a beyond bizarre evening.

A.N) This is the part where I thank **Fabulous Disgrace, The Left Hand of God, Nari-Chan SND, Sawyerslover, Reasonably crazy, Elven pwner, HazzardGrl, and LOTRfreak1229 **for reviewing, which is really really really really –deep breath- sort of awesome of you…

…and then go on and on about how great it would be if you, too (whoever you are) were too review too (won't take but a few moments of your time), and how constructive criticism works for me but how being overly nasty and flaming does not.

The end.


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